


Kozachenko Gets the Pretty Boy (No Fucking For You, Chris)

by sweetNsimple



Series: Getting Kinky on Wheels - Alexander Kozachenko and Leon Kennedy [3]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Ableism, Alexander "Sasha" Kozachenko loves Leon S. Kennedy, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Background Rebecca Chambers/Claire Redfield, Background Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller, Bottom Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfield Never Gets To Be Happy, Daddy Kink, Humor, Jealousy, Large Cock, Leon S. Kennedy Deserves To Be Happy, Leon S. Kennedy loves Alexander "Sasha" Kozachenko, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, One-Sided Attraction, Pervert Chris Redfield, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, one-sided Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: In all the years of the Redfield BBQ&B (Barbeque and Beer), Leon Scott Kennedy had always attended alone. Chris preferred it that way. However, this year, Claire had told Chris that Leon was bringing a plus-one.~::~Chris gestured between them. “How long have you two been friends?”Leon was squinting at him, as if trying to unravel some intricate puzzle. Kozachenko had the face of a man who was sucking on a lemon. “Friends? You realize that Leon is my boyfriend, do you not?”
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Alexander "Sasha" Kozachenko, Rebecca Chambers/Claire Redfield, Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller
Series: Getting Kinky on Wheels - Alexander Kozachenko and Leon Kennedy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084574
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Kozachenko Gets the Pretty Boy (No Fucking For You, Chris)

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I just really like making Chris suffer, one way or another.

The annual Redfield BBQ&B (Barbeque and Beer) weekend was taking place at Claire’s since she actually owned her own house and had an extensive backyard. Sheva, Jill, Rebecca, Sherry, and Jake – that fucking bastard – were already in attendance, making conversation and playing video games on ground floor. Bedrooms had been made on the first floor with Sheva, Jill, Rebecca, and Claire sharing one room, Chris having a room to himself, and Sherry and Jake sharing the third. Leon had the Harry Potter bedroom, a guest space just under the stairs that was actually decently spacious despite the nickname and with its low, sloping ceiling. Even when Claire had first gotten the house and it had just been him, the Redfields, and Jill, Leon had insisted on sleeping in the Harry Potter room. In the beginning, Chris had given into the childish urge more than once to jump on the stairs and yell, “Wake up, Potter! We’re going to the zoo!” And had always been greeted by Leon’s various and creative curses. This year, Leon would be sharing the Harry Potter room with a plus-one. Whoever the hell that was going to be.

In all the years of the Redfield BBQ&B, Leon Scott Kennedy had always attended alone. Chris preferred it that way. He liked the idea of one day working up the nerve to slip into Leon’s room and squeezing into bed with him, being welcomed with open arms, an open mouth, open legs. He saw the way Leon looked at him, how the agent appreciated Chris’s physique, and Chris had seen Leon do enough yoga in the morning with Claire to know that the younger man could bend himself into a pretzel. There was no shortage of lust between them. A decent relationship could be built on that if one of them could just act on it. For some reason, though, Leon only gave into cursory glances and never so much as flirted with him.

The other dilemma was that Chris was _shy_. Strange as it sounded, he had no idea how to go up to Leon and say, “Hey, I like you, want to have a relationship with me?” without getting all mixed up and accidentally starting an argument instead about something completely unrelated. He had been at this for more than a decade.

This time, though, Claire had excitedly told her big brother that Leon was bringing… _a friend_.

Leon Scott Kennedy had friends?

Well, alright, that sounded mean – Leon Scott Kennedy had more than _one_ friend?

Chris scowled down at the steaks he was grilling. What _kind_ of friend? He couldn’t get the image out of his head of Ada Wong coming down on a parachute and lifting Leon into her slim arms like he was a damsel and planting a big smooch on him. Fuck, he hated Ada.

He hoped Leon wasn’t bringing her.

From inside, he heard a loud commotion – a roar of excited or lackluster greetings. Claire’s voice filtered out of the open back door and through a curtain of smoke with overwhelming joy. “Leon!”

Chris turned his head, eyebrow cocking up. If Leon was here, that meant his guest had to be there too.

Manning the grill had turned into a solo mission, one that he took seriously, so there was no one to hand the spatula to in order to investigate the situation. Chris had to stew in his own thoughts and misgivings, glaring at the house as if he could summon Leon with the Force.

Eventually, it worked.

 _‘Fuck yeah,’_ Chris thought. _‘I’m a Jedi Master.’_

He grinned as Leon sauntered into the backyard, wearing a tight underarmor shirt and dark-washed jeans. He cocked his head, thick eyelashes dipping over his gaze as he readjusted to the bright sunshine, and Chris allowed himself to enjoy the sight of that long, lithe body meandering toward him.

If they were a couple, this would be when Leon would lope his arms around Chris’s thick waist, press a kiss to his shoulder, his neck, maybe his mouth, and say something sweet.

“Chris,” Leon grunted. “Long time no see. Meet any particularly offensive boulders lately?”

They were not a couple and the reminder burned in Chris’s gut. Soon, he promised himself. They were only getting older and, in their line of work, every day was borrowed time. He’d confront Leon about his feelings soon.

“Leon,” he answered back coolly, and then he cursed himself mentally. Being shy around the guy somehow continued to come across as if he couldn’t stand the younger man.

 _‘Be normal, dumbass!’_ Chris yelled at himself internally. “Heard you were bringing a date,” he said out loud.

“You heard right.” Leon stepped to the side and Chris watched as some guy in a wheelchair bopped down the single step between the backyard and the kitchen.

Admittedly, the man was handsome. Even Chris could see that even if the guy wasn’t his type – meaning that he looked nothing like Leon. He had dark, scruffy hair and a dark scruffy chin, a tan complexion and eyes that were either tawny or yellow gold.

The man rolled forward a few times, paused, and then scowled at his palms. Despite the afternoon’s heat, the grass was wet with a morning shower that had ended before Chris had set up the grill. The man’s hands were now damp and covered in broken grass blades.

“You could have waited till I got inside,” Chris told Leon. “You didn’t have to drag him out here.”

“I prefer being outside,” the man answered. “This was my choice. I was dragged nowhere.”

Chris instantly decided that he did not like this guy.

With a huff, the man continued to roll across the grass until he was next to Chris. He wiped one hand off on his jeans and held it out to Chris. “Alexander Kozachenko,” he introduced himself. “You must be Chris Redfield.”

Reluctantly, Chris shook his hand. “You’d be right. So, you’re a friend of Leon’s, huh? You must have the patience of a saint to hang around this guy.” And that… did not come out the way he meant it to. He tried to figure out how he _had_ meant it, but his thoughts were screaming at him that he was a dumbass.

He saw Leon go rigid out of the corner of his eye. Alexander himself appeared displeased, eyebrows pinching together and jaw tightening. He tilted his head just slightly as he glared up at Chris. “Perhaps he has the patience of a saint, if you are the kind of company he keeps when he is not home with me.”

For a moment, Chris thought this guy had assumed he and Leon were already sleeping together – _the kind of company he keeps when –_ but then that last part hit him.

He tried to understand what that could mean. This guy’s voice was heavily accented, Eastern European if Chris had to guess. Maybe even _Russian_ , and Chris had never had a good experience with a Russian. He couldn’t understand if the guy was insinuating that Kozachenko and Leon lived together or if Leon just spent that much time with him.

“Considering the number of times Chris and I have almost come to blows,” Leon explained, “I’m going to give that a _no_.”

“Hm,” was all Kozachenko had to say on the matter.

Chris gestured between them. “How long have you two been friends?”

Leon was squinting at him, as if trying to unravel some intricate puzzle. Kozachenko had the face of a man who was sucking on a lemon. “Friends? You realize that Leon is my boyfriend, do you not?”

_‘Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!’_

He had been afraid of this, hadn’t he?

Except… _well…_

This was a horrible thought, an incredibly mean thought, but he felt that Kozachenko wasn’t going to be enough man for Leon in the near future. Chris just had to keep his cool and then, someday soon, Leon would be single again. Lesson learned, Chris would be there and tell Leon just how he felt. Leon would admit that he had never _really_ liked Kozachenko, that he had only ever been with the other man because he looked – vaguely – like Chris. It’d be a whole Hallmark movie and then Chris would kiss the younger man and Leon would say something like, _“I’ve already waited long enough,”_ and then Chris would rip off his jeans and –

And Kozachenko was studying him closely.

If Chris was a Jedi Master, then this guy was a Sith Lord and he was using the Force to read Chris’s dirty thoughts about his (for now) boyfriend.

He forced himself to be supportive. “That’s great. How long have you two been together?”

It would have to be some amount of time if Leon was willing to bring the guy to a Redfield BBQ&B. Chris was thinking at least half a year to a year, something on the crisp of no longer being new without being too dedicated.

“Leon has been by my side for nine years,” Alexander informed him. “And my partner for five.”

The smell of something burning wafted through Chris’s fried nerves. With a start, he remembered that he was the Grill Master of the evening, not a Jedi Master getting sliced in half by his Sith Lord opposite.

That was… dedicated.

“Leon’s never mentioned you.” His tone was not as cordial as he had meant for it to be.

“To you,” Alexander instantly quipped, voice glacial. “Claire has known of me for some time, as have Sherry and her beau.”

Chris sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down.

Effective immediately, he decided. He was going to have to take his shirt off and do some pull-ups on the outdoor jungle gym Claire maintained. It took up half her backyard and was protected by a gazebo he and Leon had helped her construct years ago and was a mess of bars, pillars, and tires. It was essentially a small playground for adults.

He’d have Leon’s attention in a second and _Kozachenko_ wouldn’t be fucking able to compete.

“Maybe now we can get to know each other,” Chris suggested. “What do you do for a living?”

“I am a primary school teacher.”

“Huh. Did Leon tell you that I’m a Captain in the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance?”

“Should I be impressed?”

“If you were any kind of _fighter_ , you would be.” His voice was openly mocking, edged with anger. Chris was thinking that this was going to be _too_ easy. There was no way Leon was interested in living out the rest of his life with a school teacher, someone who yelled at kids and worked behind a desk. Leon was all action and combat and stealth, a combination of skills and experiences that made him a well-honed weapon. This cocky bastard would never be able to handle a man like Leon.

Kozachenko scoffed, eyes ignited with disgust. “I was a pro-independence fighter during my country’s civil war until 2011. I led men to their deaths and watch my loved ones perish because of the cruelty and selfishness of my corrupt government. I have seen what a body looks like after a building collapses on it, I have seen what happens to a city once the tanks roll in, I am _haunted_ by what Plagas do to innocent, good people. I have met your Tyrants and your Lickers and your other infected and I have come before the firing squad and only just barely survived with my life.”

He sneered at a struck-dumb Chris. “ _No_ , Redfield, I am not much of a fighter. Not anymore. Can you respect that or do you respect no one that will not hold a gun?”

From the side, Leon was heard to sigh and whisper emphatically, “ _Whoop_. There it goes.”

Chris’s grip on the spatula was so tight he was surprised either it or his hand had not broken already. A voice in the back of his head was telling him that it’d be awfully easy to tip Kozachenko’s chair over and walk over him a few times to get that smarmy, know-it-all look off his face.

“Pro-independence fighter?” he heard himself say. “Oh, you were a domestic _terrorist_.”

Kozachenko bared his teeth like a vicious animal and Chris realized, after a moment, that he was doing the exact same thing.

Leon let loose a shrill whistle. “Down, boys! No bones for either of you. Don’t think I won’t put you both in a kennel until you learn to get along.”

“We are not dogs!” Kozachenko argued, offended. 

“Could have fooled me,” Leon drawled. He crossed his arms over his chest. “If this is a dick-measuring contest, someone should let me know so I can go find a meter stick.”

Chris flushed darkly. Somehow he managed to answer without his voice breaking, “We have a foot ruler in Claire’s office.” _‘I have a nice dick. Can’t fucking believe I just offered to measure my own fucking dick to prove a point.’_

“Oh?” Kozachenko sneered at him. “You can measure your dick with a mere _foot_ ruler? Is that before or after you become erect?”

Against his will, his eyes dropped to Alexander’s lap. Intimidated, his eyes swung to Leon.

The younger man nodded, eyebrows cocking up, as if agreeing with Alexander.

Chris swallowed thickly against his dry throat. “That’s not funny,” he told them.

“I was not joking.”

“I think we’re done out here,” Leon interrupted. “How about you kick Muller’s ass at Mario Kart for me?” he asked Kozachenko.

The guy stared at Chris for a moment longer, the look in his eyes saying that he was imagining with intense vividity how it would feel to murder Chris where he stood. At last, he turned his head away and then rolled a half-circle back toward the back door.

Chris felt incredibly pleased that the little bastard had looked away first.

Then he saw the absolute acidic look Leon was giving him.

Maybe he was a dog. He certainly felt his tail go between his legs. Leon only shook his had once at him in obvious disappointment before following after his _boyfriend_.

As soon as the two were gone, Leon leaning back on the wheelchair to leverage the wheel over the step, Chris whipped out his phone and began looking up the biggest dick recorded.

“They’re joking,” he tried to assure himself. “There’s no way.”

Regardless, he decided that he was not just going to have to go shirtless, he was going to find the tiniest pair of running shorts he had buried somewhere in his room. He couldn’t fully believe that Kozachenko was bigger than him in the cock department, but he knew for damn well sure that Chris had muscles that bastard could only dream of.

The steaks that were eventually served were slightly charred, but Chris swore up and down that it was to add flavor.

“The flavor of jealousy,” Jake muttered to Sherry, who hushed him quickly. Chris, just close enough to hear the low words, felt his ears burn red.

~::~

After dinner and beer was flowing more steadily now that night was falling, Chris actually got to enjoy the festivities. More like, he got to begin the dick-measuring contest of the century.

Since this was not his permanent residence and only his room when he was with his little sister, Chris did not find any of his tiny running shorts anywhere. He did manage to scrounge up a pair of loose basketball shorts that framed the V of his hips well, though, and he practically pranced to the outdoor gym set with miles of muscled flesh on display. There were cat whistles from Sheva and Jill, Rebecca lit up like Rudolph’s nose, and Claire looked pained at the sight of her brother half-naked. Sherry was pointedly looking anywhere else and Jake was nodding in reluctant respect as he gave Chris a onceover.

Chris noted with pride that Leon’s eyes dragged particularly slow over his stacked abdomen and barrel chest. He noted with an equal amount of vindictive glee that _Kozachenko_ also checked him out.

He herded the party outside and the ladies took particular joy in goading Leon into showing off some of his gymnastics. Chris set himself up at the opposite end of the small gym of bars and poles, grabbed a rod, and started his pull-ups with focused intent.

Leon, in the midst of doing a single leg cut, caught sight of Chris and froze.

The older man couldn’t help but smirk. _‘Still got it.’_

“Allow me to join you, Redfield,” came a voice from right next to him.

Chris paused, hanging from the bar, and saw that Kozachenko had wheeled up to a lower bar two spaces down from him.

“One moment,” Kozachenko told him. He gestured to his full-sleeve button-down. “This shirt is not meant for exercise.” He unbuttoned it at the collar and then casually undid the rest. With minimal maneuvering, he slipped it down behind his back.

Guy was fucking _jacked_.

His frame was much slimmer than Chris’s, of course, but the definition of muscles in his arms and across his chest was a work of art.

 _‘God fucking damnit,’_ Chris reminded himself. _‘He’s in a goddamn wheelchair, and the chair isn’t even electric. Of course he’s top heavy.’_

Kozachenko adjusted a small belt around his waist, reached up, and pulled himself _and_ his wheelchair into five fast reps of pull-ups. From a distance, Chris heard Sheva’s delighted cackling.

Unlike Chris, though, Kozachenko let go of the bar after five. He didn’t even look tired, the fucker, or look particularly invested in trying to outdo Chris. Just in showing Chris that he _could_ be outdone.

He rolled behind Chris. “I am interested to see how you peacock next, Redfield.”

Chris glanced over and, fuck, yep. Leon’s eyes were tracking Alexander across the yard, even as he hung upside down from his bar. With grace, he flipped himself off the bar and landed on one foot and one knee, then followed loyally after the bastard.

“Hey, babe!” Chris heard. He turned his head, still shellshocked, and found that Claire was hanging upside down from another, higher bar. She was grinning wildly, arms reaching out for Rebecca. The little woman went at Claire’s beckoning and graced Chris’s little sister with a Spiderman kiss.

“Tough fucking luck, _captain_ ,” Jake said, suddenly at Chris’s side. “You ever planning on coming back down or are you going to hang there all night?”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Ditto, old man.”

~::~

Claire took over for dinner, leaving unsaid that Chris might be too distracted to make anything edible. Given their big lunch, dinner was a simpler affair anyway. Chris spent half of it watching Claire, Sheva, and Jill teach Kozachenko how to play Munchkin and then the other half joining Sherry, Rebecca, Jake, and Leon in Cards Against Humanity.

Rebecca won much to Chris’s horror. Jake looked upon the tiny woman with awe. Sherry was the kind of player who laughed at every card combo she played even though they weren’t funny while Jake was the kind of partner who forced a smile just for her – that was sweet of him, actually.

After dinner, there were video games and movies. Jake was the asshole who suggested that a room full of survivors with PTSD watch a horror movie and Leon was the first to say, “Sure – if you like the idea of waking up in the middle of the night to everyone screaming in their sleep.”

Rebecca had a love of B&W films and they settled for _Young Frankenstein_ despite the connotation of reanimating dead flesh being discomforting. It was campy enough that the discomfort was only momentary and Sheva sang with great gusto, “The HILLS are alive, with the sound of MUSIIIC~!” while Jill copied Frankenstein’s Monster’s animalistic grunts. That was about when Chris realized that they were all getting drunk if not past the point of no return.

For himself, that was not good. He’d been warned more than once that he was a somber drunk. Sheva was surprisingly fun when drunk, but Jill tended to get horny and uncomfortably friendly. Sherry had once been found crying under a table clutching an empty bottle of scotch. Claire made a point to watch her own limit and never surpass it and this habit had spread to Rebecca, so there were at least two responsible adults present.

Chris, head swimming with alcohol, tried to survey the kingdom to see where everyone was on alcohol consumption.

He discovered that Jake was the kind to conk out after drinking too much and the guy was drooling as he unconsciously cuddled a wet-eyed Sherry. Rebecca was sitting on Claire’s lap, the both of them pointedly sipping at water as if they were trying to telepathically send a message to the rest of the group that it was time to sober up. Sheva had a frisky Jill in her lap and was looking bright-eyed and pleased with this turn of events.

Chris noted that they should probably separate the two women. If they wanted to have sex with each other, they should probably discuss it while sober.

As if thinking on the same brainwave – or just following his gaze – Rebecca leaped from her perch on Claire’s lap and started gently talking to the two. Jill wrapped her arms adoringly around the doctor and Rebecca somehow managed to stumble and trip her way toward the stairs, trying to get the clingy woman to bed. Sheva, giggling, swayed after them. At the tail was Claire, ensuring that nothing would go wrong.

Chris, somewhere being buzzed and feeling like he was about to start contemplating how much his life fucking sucked, realized that there were two people already missing.

He got to his feet steadily enough. “You gonna be okay?” he asked Sherry.

She sniffled and nodded, curling around Jake. The redhead snored unattractively, but at least was a source of warmth and comfort for the sad drunk.

His job here done, he wandered out of the living room toward the kitchen. For some reason, he thought fucking _Kozachenko_ and Leon would be outside. Maybe admiring the stars together. Being _romantic_ and all that bullshit.

Chris was wrong. There was no one outside.

He circled back through the kitchen and into the corridor after it. The archway back into the living room was wide enough for three people abreast to enter and was on his right, but the entrance started just after the Harry Potter room on Chris’s left.

He paused just outside the door, listening closely.

Maybe they had fallen asleep, he told himself. Maybe _Kozachenko_ couldn’t handle his alcohol, just like Jake, and Leon had wheeled him back to his guest room to pass out.

“Uhn… H-hmmm…”

Or maybe they were _fucking_.

Chris’s jaw clenched tight, fists white-knuckled at his side.

Just buzzed enough to make a bad decision but not drunk enough to commit murder, he put his considerable years of investigative work to good use by teasing the door open a crack as quickly and quietly as he could. He pressed his eye to the crack and the angle was just enough for him to see Leon’s double-sized bed and the two men in it.

Leon was balanced on hands and knees, delicious pale skin and lithe muscles practically glowing in the low light of his bedside lamp. His head was bowed between his shoulders, his fists clenched in his blankets, and he was rhythmically thrusting back toward Kozachenko’s head.

The bastard had his nose in the crease of Leon’s buttocks, slurping, and Chris didn’t have to see or be sober to know that he had his tongue in Leon’s ass. His long-fingered hands left imprints on Leon’s cheeks, pulling them apart and massaging them.

Alexander was sitting, back against the headboard, his built torso and thin legs on full display as well.

Between his legs was an unrealistically large dildo – _holy fucking shit, that was a real dick._

Gravity wouldn’t even let Kozachenko’s cock rise. It was slumped over his thighs instead, even fully erect.

“ _Hah_!” Leon was gasping, panting, little broken whines leaving him. He was obviously making an effort to be quiet and was only successful enough to keep his noises of pleasure to a low volume.

Chris had a sudden fantasy of Leon being a screamer in bed and no amount of disgust toward Leon’s _actual_ partner could stop his own pants from tenting.

“ _P-papa_ …” Leon whispered, his hips still gyrating back on the other man’s tongue, and Chris’s own knees almost turned to jelly because _holy fuck_. “Now, now, now…” He balanced on one hand, the other disappearing toward his pelvis, and Chris watched hungrily as the younger man began to jack off. Leon was an average-sized man, fat cock blushing pink, and it curved artfully toward his jittery abdomen until his skilled hand came around it, framing the glistening glans pornographically.

“My kitten sounds ravenous. Does kitten want milk?” Kozachenko asked from behind Leon. “Is that it?”

“Y-yeah,” Leon whimpered, and the sound of him, vulnerable and husky, made Chris’s erection jerk. He was fucking hard enough to pound _nails_ , but he would really rather settle for Leon.

“ _Yeah_?” Kozachenko mocked. He was admittedly using a light, teasing tone, but Chris’s chest flared with indignant heat nonetheless that the bastard would force someone as sexy and needy as _Leon_ to _beg_ ….

And then Chris was imaging that he was in Kozachenko’s place, that he was holding those sculpted cheeks in his broad hands, fingers pressing into peach-soft flesh until it bruised, and he was thinking of making Leon want his cock so bad that the smaller man _cried_ –

“Y- _yes_ ,” Leon whined. “Yes, _papa_ , I want…” He trailed off weakly.

Chris could see Kozachenko change the angle of his head toward one cheek, heard Leon barely muffle a squeal, and he intuitively knew that the bastard had just bitten one of those peach-soft globes. Chris’s mouth _watered_ with want, envious as fuck that Alexander knew what Leon’s ass felt like in his hands and mouth. “What was that?”

Leon was trembling too hard to keep masturbating. His hand slapped back down on the bed, his entire body undulating toward Kozachenko’s face. He took several deep, ragged breaths before he answered. “ _Papa_ , I want milk, please.”

“For?”

“For being… so good.”

Leon’s face was bright red, shame and arousal and euphoria. Chris bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing something stupid, like charging into the bedroom and telling Leon’s boyfriend to stop living Chris’s best fantasies.

“Hm.” Kozachenko’s hands slid down Leon’s ass to his thighs, massaging them. “My kitten is so spoiled. I give and I give and my kitten only ever wants more.”

“Please, _papa_?” Leon whimpered. “I’ll work very hard for my, my milk.”

“Aw. It is a good thing that I love my spoiled kitten. Come, kitten. Earn your meal.”

Leon was shaking, muscles in his arms and legs jumping just beneath the skin, as he crawled forward and then swung his legs around so that he was facing Kozachenko. He walked forward on his knees, revealing his entire backside to Chris and hiding his pretty cock that had to become pressed between his own hips and Kozachenko’s abdomen.

That was definitely a bite mark on Leon’s ass.

Chris’s jealousy knew no ends.

Leon pressed fervent, adoring kisses to Kozachenko’s cheeks, his forehead, and his neck. By some unspoken sentiment, they did not kiss on the lips. Kozachenko, Chris decided, was a fucking coward if he wasn’t willing to go ass-to-mouth for a babe like Leon.

There was a pause, their cheeks pressed together. Chris saw Leon go rigid with tension and then, a moment later, completely relax. Chris didn’t have the brain power to fathom what the hell that had been about before the two were moving again.

Leon reached behind him with one hand, his other curled around the back of Kozachenko’s neck, and the bastard got the joy of bowing his head and sucking on Leon’s chest while the agent panted and whimpered, sinking down on that ridiculously oversized dick inch by inch. Chris couldn’t look away as Leon’s bubble butt was spread open on that cock, thighs shaking so bad that Chris thought Leon was going to fall and swallow up the rest in one careless motion.

Kozachenko’s one hand alighted on Leon’s ass cheek, arm flexed, helping Leon in controlling his descent, and his other disappeared between their bodies. Leon’s breathing accelerated and Chris didn’t have to be told that the way Leon gyrated away and toward Kozachenko’s penis was because the bastard was jacking Leon off.

Chris had never before been so heartbroken, furious, and horny at the same time.

Leon’s back arched as he sank down, his head falling back, and the choked off noises of pleasure were now numerous and loaded with wordless praise.

“ _P-papa_ , yes!”

“Work for your milk, kitten,” Kozachenko fucking _purred_ , and, fuck, Chris felt that voice run down his _own_ spine like nails and goosebumps rose up on his skin.

Leon at last sat on Kozachenko’s thighs, his breath so loud and fast that it sounded like he was hyperventilating.

“Does that feel good, kitten?”

“Mm-hm!” Leon’s head was thrown back, his face pointing away from Chris, and so he couldn’t see his expression. He could imagine though, and he thought Leon had to have his pink bottom lip caught between his teeth, pulling it raw and swollen as he tried to control the animalistic noises of pleasure he was making.

“What do you say when your _papa_ makes you feel good?”

“T-Thank you, _papa_ …”

“You are very welcome, kitten. Earn your meal now.”

“I will, _papa_ … I am… I want _papa’s_ milk…” Leon rose and fell in tight little circle, Kozachenko’s cock never fully slipping out. Every time Leon fell back on the lucky bastard’s lap, a choked-off hiccup left him, as if Kozachenko was fucking the air right out of him.

This character was impossible for Chris to comprehend. Never had Leon ever been so docile, so meek, and Chris couldn’t handle the fantasies that smacked him in the face and balls as they tore through his perverse brain. Fuck, just – the things he could _do_ to Leon, that he could make Leon _enjoy_ …

No.

The things he _wanted_ to do and might never have the chance to if Kozachenko and Leon stayed so strong together. Being that vulnerable, that subservient to another man, meant that Leon didn’t just _like_ Kozachenko, he wasn’t just using the bastard as a placeholder, Leon had to be in love.

Chris’s heart sank into his boiling belly.

Leon loved this guy. Was willing to trust him when he was at his most fragile.

“I love to see my kitten like this, happy and full,” Kozachenko was telling Leon, and Chris was throbbing in his pants and broken in his heart as he realized that he might have been years too late to have the agent for himself. “I love to spoil my good kitten.” Leon was bouncing on the bastard’s lap, faster and faster, and he was only getting noisier.

“ _Ah – ah – aah – aaah – aaah – uummmm_!”

Leon pushed down flush to Kozachenko’s lap, hips rolling without lifting, and he pressed his face into the junction of Kozachenko’s neck and shoulders, gasping with need under the bastard’s jaw. Kozachenko’s eyes were shut, eyebrows pinched together and teeth bared in a grimace of pleasure. Leon _sobbed_ , going perfectly still, and Chris realized that they had just climaxed.

After a moment that felt like the world had frozen for the two lovers, they relaxed into one another, gasping for breath. Leon’s pale skin glistened with sweat and Kozachenko’s darker flesh looked horrifically appealing as his hands smoothed over Leon’s back, soothing the agent.

“Fuck…” Leon groaned breathily, with pure exhaustion, as he rose on his knees. His thighs were shivering and Chris got a front row seat to watching Kozachenko’s monster cock slip wetly free of Leon’s fucked-loose hole followed by bubbly spurts of spunk.

Kozachenko had obviously and completely ruined Leon. “Gotta clean up,” he heard Leon mumble drowsily.

“Mm,” Kozachenko answered tiredly. His face had gone straight from orgasm to sleepy.

 _‘At least I don’t fall asleep after sex,’_ Chris told himself petulantly. He also didn’t have a dick that was longer than a foot ruler and who the fuck knew how much that took out of a guy. Kozachenko had to have blood pressure issues.

“We gotta,” Leon slurred, even as he snuggled into Kozachenko’s chest. “We’re filthy.”

“Messy kitten,” Kozachenko crooned, looking half-asleep. His one arm wrapped around Leon’s waist, the other coming up and combing through Leon’s sweaty hair. Chris could see the man groggily smirk. “Such a spoiled, good, _messy_ kitten.”

“Shut _up_.”

“You did very well. You worked so hard for your meal. Did you enjoy my milk? Did it fill you up?”

Chris watched Leon shudder.

“Yeah,” he answered meekly. “I love _papa’s_ milk inside of me, making me full.” And then, with more of his usual spirit. “Fucking pervert.” And then louder, “Talking to _you_ , Redfield.”

He was thinking more with the head between his legs than the one on his shoulders, so it took him precious seconds to realize that he was being addressed. In the time it took for him to think, _‘Oh, shit, that’s me,’_ Kozachenko had opened his eyes and was sneering directly at him.

There was no surprise on the bastard’s face.

 _‘They knew I was here. How long have they known? They never_ stopped _?!’_

“The show is over,” Kozachenko told him. “Leave.”

Chris slammed the door shut in horror, took a running leap, and was racing up the stairs before he even took his next breath.

They had known. They had known and they had kept going. Why? _Why_?

Rebecca and Claire stumbled out of the bedroom, looking alarmed.

“What happened?” Claire asked her big brother, but Chris was already zipping right into the bathroom and locking it behind him. “Chris!” She knocked on the door. “Is everyone okay?”

“Y-yeah!” he called back hoarsely. “Everyone’s fine.”

He was _not_ fine.

For one, he had cum in his pants like a fucking teenager.

For another, he’d just been caught being a peeping tom on the guy he’d had feelings for.

If he had been shy around Leon before, he was going to be a ghost from now on and be as invisible as possible every time someone so much as said the agent’s name.

_‘Just another sign from the universe. Their fun little, “Fuck You, Chris Redfield. Can’t Believe You Thought You Could Have What You Wanted.” Should have talked to Leon sooner.’_

He had spank bank material for years, sure, but that lucky fucking bastard Alexander Kozachenko had what Chris really wanted: Leon Scott Kennedy.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of this story! I honestly could not figure out how to end this.


End file.
